


Rebuild

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Comics Elements, Light Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Pining, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Teambuilding, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-08-13 11:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20173714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: Tony lives, falls in love despite himself, and spends entirely too much time in California.





	Rebuild

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pleurer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/gifts).

> This is only partially canon compliant. Pepper and Tony did not get back together post-Civil War and Tony survives Endgame. FFH does not happen and the weird timeline shenanigans introduced therein are ignored. Going with IW is two years after CW as per AM&W.
> 
> Recip, I started with the truth serum confession tag and worked backwards to add in plenty of pining. It's more pining with plot than truth serum confession now, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank you so much to Natcat for all your help. You are so great. ♥
> 
> Redating for reveals. Sorry if you somehow manage to see this twice!
> 
> Personal notes: OPD: 8/9. AOD: 8/21.

Tony should have died. He felt like he was dying. The suit was damaged. Tony didn't want to know what his hand looked like underneath it. He was burning up. Rhodey winced away when he put a hand to Tony's cheek, but he looked relieved, so things were going to plan, or as much of a plan as one could have when they realized they might have to be a last minute sacrifice to save the world.

Maybe in another universe, Tony would have died, some universe where Tony, despite having hit rock bottom post-Snap, had someone to pull him back, to say, "No, Tony, a modified version of Extremis paired with your nanite technology and an extra special spin you've pulled out of your ass after six months of too little sleep and too much self-recrimination is not the answer. Stop experimenting on yourself without proper scientific trials first." Maybe they'd have kept him from reaching that point, made him get more sleep instead of spending nights up in the lab torturing himself over all the ways things went wrong.

In this one, Tony didn't have that person. He and Pepper had never gotten back what they'd had pre-Civil War (and wasn't that a moment of nostalgia, to think of the halcyon days when that was the worst he'd had to deal with?). Rhodey had been too busy putting out literal and metaphorical fires all over the planet to deal with Tony's self-made dumpster fire grown from the spark of a terrible idea. Happy had literally never been able to hold Tony back. Even if J.A.R.V.I.S. weren't long gone, he'd been incapable of stopping Tony from anything he put his mind to, only acting as an easily ignored cautionary voice. Tony had been alone in the lab except for F.R.I.D.A.Y., who'd said, "Projections look good, boss."

Tony had injected himself, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. had called Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey on him when, six hours later, he remained passed out on the concrete floor. It was for the best. Without that medically dubious and ethically unsound injection, Tony actually would be dying right now instead of slumping against a convenient bit of rubble as he tried not to pass out. Everything hurt. His body throbbed where it didn't burn. It felt like he had battery acid running through his veins instead of blood. 

People moved around him. Peter was crying in Tony's diminished field of vision. That was nice. Peter was alive to cry, and it was kind of flattering how hard Tony's impending death was hitting him. Tony would be concerned if he weren't so certain he was sticking around for the moment. Tony tried lifting a hand to pat Peter on the shoulder, but he didn't have the energy. It was all going to fix the nigh catastrophic damage the Infinity Stones had done to his body. It would be easier if Peter would lean in a little closer. Maybe they could get another hug. Then again, maybe not. Tony really was burning up.

Peter said something about how sorry he was. He called Tony "Mr. Stark" a bunch of times. Tony felt awful, but it was so nice to hear Peter's voice. Peter called Tony "Tony," and Tony felt it like a warm shot the whole way through. Or maybe that was the Extremis.

"Might want to take a step back," Rhodey said, because he, at least, was paying attention to the fact that Tony was almost glowing with the heat he was putting off. Rhodey tugged at Peter's shoulder and took them back more than a step. Good. This was as yet untested. There was still the (really rather small, practically miniscule) chance that Tony was going to explode.

Tony closed his eyes and let the heat wash over him, consuming him and recreating him in a process reminiscent of phoenix fire, if phoenixes were real and didn't have to start over again as chicks. Tony didn't think he'd want to start over as a baby. His teens and twenties had been hard enough. He didn't want to revisit being preverbal.

Tony gritted his teeth. He clenched his fists, grateful in a distant part of himself that he could move both hands now. He curled in on himself and rode out the pain. Eventually, inevitably, he came out the other side a new man—or at least a man with a partly new body, with shiny pink skin in the place of what had previously been extensive burns and charred flesh.

"We can rebuild him," Tony intoned when he could talk again. The suit was trashed, cannibalized for spare parts. There was just enough left to hold the Infinity Stones in a pared down gauntlet. Tony slipped it off his hand and let it drop to the dirt. "Let's not do that again."

"Mr. Stark!" was all the warning Peter gave before he threw himself into Tony's arms.

"Oof." Tony's hands came up to steady Peter, to pull him in. It was just as nice as last time. Nicer, really, no worries about a battle going on around them, just Peter warm and solid and real, bursting with life. Tony didn't care if it was weird. He buried his face in Peter's neck and clutched at Peter's back. Even if Tony hadn't made it, it would have been worth it. This was worth it. "You're okay. We're okay."

"I thought you were dying," Peter said. "You were. You were dying."

Tony held up a hand, though Peter couldn't see it, and wiggled it back and forth. "Sort of. Sort of dying. I stayed most of the way alive. The rejuvenation process took care of the rest." And anything past that didn't matter right now.

Peter pulled back far too soon, a minute slipping away like it was a second. Tony let him go.

Rhodey had a particular look on his face. It was a look that said he wasn't saying something, but he was thinking it, and he wanted Tony to notice, to see how very much Rhodey wasn't saying the thing. Tony looked back with wry amusement. Yes, thank you, Rhodey.

"Someone want to help me up?"

With Rhodey on his left and Peter on his right, Tony stood. Dust floated on the wind. This time, Tony smiled to see it.

"I'm hungry," Tony said. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"I'm starving," Peter said. He was a teenager with a supercharged metabolism. Of course he was hungry.

"I could eat," Rhodey said.

There were a lot of other hungry people on the battlefield. There were also a lot more people than there'd been a few hours ago, period.

"What do you think it would take to get delivery out here?" Tony said.

**

Tony didn't think about it, the way Peter's hand squeezed around his elbow before letting go. He couldn't think about it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But God, it felt so good.

_Peter was alive_.

It was enough. It was more than enough.

**

They rebuilt. The world readjusted. It was a new day, a better day.

Tony had retired, but he was tempted to come out of it, to not let the time heist be a one night only event, a summer spectacular never to be repeated. He'd had his little cabin by the lake with a backyard garden. He still had it. It was nice, but it was lonely. The city called to him. Or maybe upstate. It depended on the day, really.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," Peter said over the phone, "I just discovered the coolest thing. Did you know if you combine the rebound webbing with the flammable version—"

"I'm going to stop you there," Tony interrupted, "and ask you to skip to the part of the story where you tell me no one got hurt."

"No one _really_ got hurt," Peter hedged.

Tony picked up the car keys he'd been eyeing all evening. "That's _really_ not good enough. Is Bruce not supervising you?"

"I don't need supervision," Peter said in his most flagrant lie yet. "And yeah, he was there. No one would have gotten hurt at all if he'd stood behind me."

Something tight in Tony's chest loosened. He put the keys back on the counter. "Just so long as you're okay."

"Were you going to come check on me?" Peter asked. Must've heard the jingle. "Because I have another idea."

"You don't have to set the labs on fire to get me to visit." Tony picked the keys up again. With entirely too much honesty, Tony said, "All you ever have to do is ask."

"Come visit. Everyone misses you."

"Everyone, huh?" Tony slipped on his shoes.

"Captain America could use maintenance on his wings, and he told me I wasn't allowed to help after the last time."

"What did you do the last time?" Tony switched from his phone to the headset. 

"I would like to preface this with the fact that it wasn't my fault and it wasn't even my idea initially."

Oh, goody. This was going to be one of _those_ stories. Listening to Peter launch into another hair-raising tale, Tony walked out the door.

**

The thing was—

See, the thing was—

Tony wasn't thinking about it. It was easier that way.

Peter's face was bright when Tony came in, always so pleased to see him, never mind they were on the phone three minutes ago. Bruce, arm out of the sling now, was sitting at a workstation, holo up and projecting a scan of a molecular structure. Wanda was sitting on the counter, swinging her feet.

"You're going to want to see this," Peter insisted like his latest project was the reason Tony had showed up.

"There is nowhere near enough safety equipment in play here." Tony said. Did it make him a hypocrite? Maybe. But he hadn't risked screwing up someone else's timeline just so Peter could die in a lab accident. "Where are your safety goggles?"

"Equipment? No," Wanda said. She waved her hand. Red mist clung to her fingertips. "But shielding? I have it covered."

**

The thing was, Peter was seventeen, and Tony was an old man getting older. The thing was, Tony loved him, and it was innocent, it really was, nothing perverse about the bright spark of feeling the kid ignited every time he came crashing into Tony's life. The thing was, they had so much in common, but Peter was better and getting better all the time. The thing was, Tony wasn't in love with Peter, because Peter was _seventeen years old_, but—

The thing was, Tony was a futurist, and he saw a future where he could be. It would be easy, so easy as Peter got older and matured and grew into the amazing person his already brilliant self was well on his way to becoming. It wouldn't take any effort at all. All Tony would have to do was … nothing. Just let it happen. Let a few years pass, if he made it that far, turn around, and realize, oh, hey, at some point he'd fallen head over heels.

The thing was, Tony was selfish, but he wasn't an asshole. He didn't know what his modified Extremis had done, not for sure. He could live forever. He could keel over tomorrow. The projections were either very promising or super bleak.

The thing was, even if they had been the same damn age with the same projected lifespan, Peter deserved someone better, someone easier, someone nicer. Another little ray of sunshine to keep warm with.

The thing was—

The thing was this couldn't be a thing. Tony couldn't let it. Tony wouldn't let it.

Maybe it _was_ time to come out of retirement. Tony was a new man. Time to start a new life.

**

"So I think we should talk about the Avengers," Tony said when he had most of the original set together in a conference room, along with a bunch of the latecomers.

"That's what you said when you called this meeting," Steve said. His voice was a touch reedy. It continued to be weird. "You don't need everyone present to announce you're coming back."

"That's not why I called you." Tony waved a hand carelessly. "I want to talk about how the roster has gotten pretty unwieldy. Lots of people to divvy up. Professor Hulk, Katniss, Old Steve—"

"Still not an active member, nor is that an actual hero name," Steve said, like he hadn't spent all of his retirement running comms on missions and sticking his fingers anywhere anyone would let him. Steve didn't _do_ retirement.

"—Big Thunder and his merry band whenever they're in the system—"

"He's not the captain!" Quill interjected over the video call.

"Of course I'm not," Thor said in a falsely soothing voice in the background.

"—Tiny Man and the Wasp when they're on this coast—"

"How come you can remember her name, but not mine?" Scott whined, and Tony suppressed a sharp smile.

"—the Wakandan contingent when they're doing their outreach program or we're needed for something intergalactic or at least international—"

Okoye inclined her head on her video screen.

"—Captain Glowy Hands—"

Carol shook her head on the screen, but that was a smile fighting to supplant that frown, so Tony counted it as a win.

"—Sabrina the not-so-teenage witch, an actual witch—excuse me, wizard—and an actual teenager—" Tony gestured at Wanda and Peter respectively. Strange had claimed he was too busy to show. He could point at himself in his house on Bleeker Street if he wanted. "—Captain America—" Sam got that little smile he got every time someone called him that. "—and Freezer Burn."

Sam winced. Barnes got his own little smile.

"Am I missing anyone?"

"I can't believe you'd forget your best friend," Rhodey said.

"Of course I didn't." Tony grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I already claimed you for my team. Over thirty years of friendship. I've got dibs."

"Team?" Bruce said.

"Team," Tony confirmed. "New York's great, but I think it's time I headed back to Malibu, get back to my leaving New York roots. One team with me, Rhodey, the ant people, and whoever else wants a little fun and sun. Another with—" Tony waved at the rest of the table. "—whoever is claimed by the other group or really wants to stay."

"You want to lead your own group," Steve said disbelievingly. 

"Nah." Tony pointed at Clint. "He can lead it for all I care. All I want is to be on the opposite coast."

"I _could_ lead it," Clint said with a confrontational edge, like Tony had called his responsibility into question.

"Yeah, I just said that. Keep up." Tony looked around. "We have a lot of people. It makes sense to split us up a little. Opinions?"

Sam's expression was thoughtful. "It does make sense."

"It's not my responsibility anymore," Steve said in a way that indicated he had capital O Opinions and was valiantly keeping them to himself.

"Don't have to be a field leader to be a team leader," Tony said.

Barnes knocked his shoulder into Sam's. "I'm sticking with these two troublemakers."

"Who says I'm not moving to Malibu?" Sam said.

"I could use a change in scenery," Wanda said.

"I'm saying it. You're not moving to Malibu," Barnes told Sam.

Everyone started talking. Peter slipped out of his seat and came to stand by Tony. In a quiet voice, he said, "You're leaving?"

"Nothing stopping me from coming back to visit," Tony said, looking up at Peter. He was getting taller. From his position sitting, Tony was really having to crane his head back. "Or stopping you from calling me if you need a second opinion on whether to mess with the waldoes again. The answer on that one is no, by the way, so you don't even need to call." 

"Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?" Peter asked.

_Ask me to stay,_ Tony thought. Aloud, he made his voice firm as he said, "No." He stood, putting them on a more even level, Peter just the slightest bit below him. He patted Peter on the shoulder. "It's not like I've been around that much. You'll hardly notice I'm gone."

Peter didn't look like he believed that. That was okay. Tony didn't believe it, either.

**

"You're not in love with him," Rhodey said quietly when it was just the two of them.

"I'm not," Tony agreed.

"But you could be," Rhodey said just as quietly.

"Yeah." Tony looked up at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look Rhodey in the eye. "Given time."

"I _have_ missed Malibu," Rhodey said. He stood closer, brushing his shoulder against Tony's in something like support. "Maybe build your next house on solid ground?"

Tony choked out a laugh. "Yeah, let's try for something that won't fall into the ocean this time."

"For what it's worth—" Rhodey clasped Tony's shoulder briefly. "—I think you're making the right call."

**

"But I just got used to New York," Happy said.

"You can stay if you like," Tony offered. "I think Pepper's planning to. And the board's always been run out of New York City. Headquarters will stay here. I'm not even shifting R&D again."

Happy looked thoughtful. "I think you need me more."

"I may have you run a few errands over here, too, if you don't mind," Tony said.

"Spider-Man's past the babysitter phase," Happy said, but he'd said he didn't want to babysit in the first place, and look how that had worked out. Happy would miss Peter if Tony kept him on the West Coast full time.

At least one of them shouldn't have to.

**

It wasn't like Tony never saw Peter again. He saw him plenty in the weeks leading up to the split—and it was a much nicer split this time around, one half of the team headed for another coast and both still allowed in the country. The whole Civil War thing might've gone down much better if half the hotheads in the room had been in another timezone to start and Tony had gotten to have a drink in hand.

(Was that wishful thinking? Sure. But Tony was operating entirely on wishful thinking right now, like the wish that physical distance could evoke emotional distance, too.) 

This was going to be fine. Wanda was excited to be headed for warmer climes. Scott and Hope were glad to have their Avengers commute cut down to only part of the height of the country instead of its entire width. Rhodey still didn't care where they were based, because he was balancing the Avengers act with the US Air Force. Clint was switching coasts, but refused to move his family. Bruce, Steve, Sam, Barnes, and Strange were all sticking with New York. So was Peter, not that he had any choice about it. Everyone else would continue to do their own thing.

"You'll come visit at some point, right?" Tony asked Thor over the video screen.

"Of course," Thor said. 

"Good." Tony tapped at the desk. "Next time I see you, I'll be in another part of the country."

Thor grinned. "And the next time I see you, I'll be in another part of the universe."

"No one likes a show off," Tony said.

"But everyone likes a winner," Thor said. Space was good for him. The Guardians' wanderer lifestyle suited him. Good. Good for him. Tony was glad to see him happy these days. Thor sobered slightly. "You'll be fine. Retirement ill suited you. Things will work out. You'll see."

"Thanks for the pep talk, but I've gotta go. These boxes won't pack themselves."

Thor grinned again. "Of course they won't. That's what you pay others for."

Tony shook his head. He signed off. He stood and cracked his neck. He'd been retired. How did he end up with so many things at the Avengers Compound? This wasn't even his office, not anymore. Hadn't been for years. Technically, this hadn't ever been his office, the whole structure rebuilt. Everything left over from before retirement should have been blown into itty bitty pieces.

"Is there something I can do to help?" Peter asked. He was standing in the door, like he wasn't sure of his welcome.

"I could use a break," Tony said. He was leaving soon. A few hours couldn't hurt. "Do you have any special projects you want to show off or could use a sounding board for?"

"I was thinking I'd help you for once," Peter said.

Tony put a hand on Peter's shoulder, perfectly innocent right now, both the action and the reaction. Peter lit up under the attention, but it was just a teenager thrilled to be noticed by the hero who had proven long ago he didn't deserve the pedestal he was shakily clinging to—and that's why Tony had to leave. He needed to preserve this, the relationship they had now. The only way to keep the memory was to let the real thing go.

"Trust me, this is helping me," Tony said. "We could also watch a movie. Grab dinner. Do something that isn't about the big move."

"Dinner and a movie sounds nice. Could we do that?" Peter asked.

"Sure." It was innocent. For now, dinner and a movie was just dinner and a movie. "Sounds great."

It hurt how much Tony was going to miss this. But a lot of things hurt. Open heart surgery in a cave with no anesthetic. Nearly getting electrocuted to death by an overloaded full-sized arc reactor. Dying of palladium poisoning. Losing someone he'd made and raised to be his best friend and most trusted partner to his own hubris. Finding out his parents were murdered by his childhood hero and current friend's long lost best friend—and then realizing they were maybe never friends after all. Watching the best person he knew turn to dust, helpless to do anything about it. Wielding all six Infinity Stones. Being reborn in fire.

Pain was an old friend. In this case, it had a purpose. Tony welcomed it.

They watched Star Wars, all three of the original trilogy, and ate Chinese food directly from the cartons. Peter fell asleep sprawled out on the couch with his feet in Tony's lap. It was good. It was the sort of memory Tony could carefully wrap up and fold away to pull out on harder days. Tony turned his attention away from Peter's face, slack with sleep, and back to the movie. Tony had hated the ewoks the first time he'd seen this, but he had to admit, they'd grown on him.

**

The West Coast Avengers didn't end up in Malibu. They were closer to San Francisco, both because it was convenient for Hope and Scott and also because Tony didn't actually want to go back. He'd been a different man the last time he'd lived there. The mess he'd been then didn't merit revisiting. Tony was an entirely new mess, thank you very much.

A new mess who thankfully didn't have to run anything. Clint was disqualified on the basis of spending most of his time in Missouri, and Tony disqualified himself on the basis of not wanting to do it. Rhodey claimed he was too busy, bolstered by the fact he wasn't able to show up to this meeting in person. He hadn't actually moved to California, either.

Wanda shot a dubious look at Scott, then a less dubious look at Hope, and said, "I'll do it."

"Great. Hope can be your second in command," Tony volunteered her before anyone could volunteer him.

"And you can be our quartermaster," Hope said in a way that made it clear this was revenge.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Tony lied. This was going to seriously cut into all that beach time Tony wasn't planning to take.

**

Peter called every week, sometimes (often) more. Tony answered.

It wasn't allowed to become a thing, but Tony had real and growing concerns that, despite the distance, it could become a thing.

**

Tony's hair got darker. Most of the team thought he was dyeing it. Others knew better.

"Rhodey told me, but I still wasn't expecting it." Pepper brushed Tony's hair out of his eyes. He was going to need another haircut soon. "You looked distinguished with the gray."

"Still look good, though, right?" Tony grabbed another slice of Ray's from the box she'd brought with her.

Pepper smiled, a little bit sad, a little bit wistful, but mostly fond, friendly. "Always."

**

Tony came back to New York for Peter's high school graduation. Peter had gotten a little taller. His shoulders had filled out a little more. He still looked at Tony like he hung the moon. Tony felt old just looking at him.

"I'm really glad you came," Peter said as he threw his arms around Tony. He smelled like Old Spice and dollar store shampoo. Tony turned his head and buried his nose in Peter's hair.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Tony ran his hands up and down Peter's back a few times before squeezing one last time and letting go. "I'll take you and your aunt out for a graduation dinner after. Wherever you want to go."

Of course, they both ended up missing dinner when there was an Avengers emergency, but that was the superhero life. Tony went back to California with a few new bruises that weren't bad enough to trigger a reaction from Extremis and a lightness of the heart that came with having watched Peter take down a bad guy three times his size without a scratch.

**

What to give an eighteen year old about to start college for their birthday? Tony had ideas. He'd like to say they were appropriate, but he was trying to not to lie to himself so much these days.

"You already got him a new suit," Rhodey said when Tony went looking for advice as the date approached. "Why not let that be enough?"

"That's not a birthday gift. That's a necessity for Avengers business."

"He already has two."

"He needs extras," Tony insisted. "What if something happened to both of them?"

"I got one suit," Rhodey pointed out.

"Yeah, and look what you did to it. You can't expect more from me when you let Hammer get his grubby paws all over yours within a week of taking possession. Peter only let his friend jailbreak it and otherwise left it alone. He knows perfection when he sees it."

"What about all the modifications he's made to the Iron Spider suit?"

"That's different. That's _Peter_ personalizing it, which I allowed for when I first designed it. The suit should be allowed to grow with him."

"And that's why you've designed something like twelve more suits for him."

"Exactly," Tony said.

Point was, the new suit wasn't a birthday gift, so Rhodey wasn't much help.

**

No one liked Tony's next idea.

"Have you ever tried to find street parking in New York City?" Happy asked Tony in the tone of someone who knew very well Tony didn't have to worry about that sort of thing. Even when he'd driven, he'd had Happy to guard the car when he wasn't going to one of his own properties or somewhere with valet parking. "Think of something else to give the kid. He actually likes public transportation."

**

"Happy's right about the car," Pepper said. "Why not just ask him what he wants?"

So Tony did.

**

"Come back for my birthday," Peter said. "That's what I want."

_Bad idea,_ Tony thought.

It was Tony. He did it anyway.

**

"I didn't need a car," Peter said like he thought he needed to put in a token protest, but he was running his hands lovingly along the dark red hood of the Audi in a way that said that yes, he liked it, and no, he didn't want to give it up. Tony was feeling very smug right about now. "Where am I even going to put it?"

"I bought you a parking garage for that," Tony said.

"Oh, like one of those little personal storage ones?" Peter asked.

"It's personal and you can use it for storage," Tony hedged. "How would you like to take this baby on a test drive?"

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, but he was already opening the driver's side door.

"It's yours," Tony said. "You don't need my permission."

Peter wrapped his hands around the leather of the steering wheel. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. It's perfect."

"Wait until you actually drive it."

**

Tony was very, very glad that he was paying for the insurance, because Peter would never be able to afford it. He was also grateful to know that Peter was sturdy and healed fast.

"It wasn't that bad," Peter said defensively.

"I'm flying myself back," Tony said.

Peter caught Tony's wrist. "Stay a little longer?"

Tony eyed the car. "Yeah, okay. But no more car rides."

"You can drive," Peter said.

When Tony slid in the driver's side, the seat was warm with Peter's body heat. Peter licked his lips as Tony put the car in drive. Tony thought about offering him chapstick. He kept his mouth shut.

Tony hated New York City street level driving. He preferred freeways and open roads. He drove until they had to refill the tank, then drove a little more. Eventually, it got late. Tony turned them toward home—or at least Peter's home.

"And that," Tony said when he got out of the car and tossed Peter the keys, "is how you treat a very special lady like this car."

"You're a worse driver than I am," Peter said, but a wide smile stretched across his face.

Tony wanted to touch it. He kept his hands to himself. He leaned into the hug Peter gave him, but then he suited up. He went home—or at least where he lived now.

**

California was warm. Tony loved the ocean, and his new house looked out over the shoreline. He was surrounded by friends and teammates whenever he dropped by the West Coast compound.

But sometimes, it felt cold and lonely. The view from his house was all wrong, the water the wrong color. He'd prefer a skyline instead, a sea of steel and glass and a red and blue figure swinging across it.

Tony sucked it up. He went to the wet bar and mixed himself another drink. Then, properly braced, he went downstairs and applied his next injection.

**

Tony picked up a new protégé, one who showed up and wouldn't take no for an answer. So did Clint when he visited New York for one of their occasional cross-team team-ups. The whole Avengers gig was a bit of a sausage fest. They were doing their part to fix that. At least with this, Tony wasn't expecting it to ever be a thing.

"I'm moving back to the New York branch," Clint said. "Kate needs a bit more help than bimonthly meetings, and I'm not flying a minor across the country because it's more convenient."

"Is that judgment I hear?" Tony asked, sitting back in his chair in the conference room and affecting nonchalance. "Because I'm not flying Riri. She's flying herself. _I_ wanted her to graduate before doing the superhero thing."

"Hey, if I could get Kate to hold off, I would, too." Clint flipped a pen in his hand. "But _someone_ set a precedent of allowing teenage superheroes."

"Let's focus on the important thing," Hope cut in, "which is that Clint is switching teams."

"Which brings us down to five; six when Riri feels like playing weekend warrior," Tony said instead of thinking about that first teenage superhero he'd encouraged.

"Shuri is in the area more for the Wakandan outreach program in Oakland." Wanda steepled her fingers against the edge of the table.

"So, what, we call King Kitty and ask if the kitten princess can come out to play?"

Wanda looked supremely unimpressed with Tony. "She doesn't need her brother's permission and she already offered."

"There we go," Hope said. "A full roster."

**

"I just feel like I could be doing more," Peter said. He looked bored and frustrated. Freshman intro classes were not agreeing with him. "It's not like I actually need a college degree to be an Avenger."

"You don't," Tony agreed as he replaced some of Dum-E's wiring. Ever since his saltwater bath, it seemed like he needed twice as much maintenance as before. Or maybe Tony was a little overzealous, overprotective when it came to his eldest. One of the two. "But most of us don't do the Avengers gig full-time, and it'll help with whatever else you _do_ want to do. Pretty sure you don't want to play glorified S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for the rest of your life."

"I learn way more from you than I do in any of these classes," Peter said.

"If you're that bored, you have an entire library at your disposal, plus lab time at the compound, plus me at your beck and call, day or night, to talk out any snags Bruce can't help you with."

"Do I?" Peter asked quietly.

"I don't think you need me as much anymore," Tony said frankly, "but yeah. I'm here right now, aren't I?"

"But you're not really here," Peter said.

"Maybe not physically, but any time you need me, of course I'll be there." Tony gestured with his screwdriver. "Even when it's six in the morning and I originally planned to sleep in until ten."

Peter's eyes widened. Tony suspected that if Peter weren't busy walking and talking, he'd put a hand over his mouth. "The time difference."

"That, and it's not even ten there."

"I got out of my first class of the day, and I—I wanted to talk to you."

"You can always talk to me. That's my point." Maybe Tony had to find a project to wake himself up, but he was more than happy to let Peter's call drive him out of bed. Then, because Tony harbored some very specific suspicions about where this was coming from, he said, "Just because I picked up a would-be mini me who, let's be honest, could maybe be a long lost love child doesn't mean I'm going to forget you."

"You think she's your daughter?" Peter asked. He looked startled.

"No, I don't." For one thing, Tony had never met Riri's mother. "I'm just saying I wouldn't be disappointed." Tony screwed back on Dum-E's paneling. "She's not a replacement, kid. She's her own person."

"You never—" Peter looked away. "Did you ever feel that way about me?"

Tony didn't know what Peter wanted from him here. All he could give was the truth: "No."

Peter's shoulders slumped. Was that disappointment? Relief?

"Two different people," Tony reiterated. "Only one of whom I've let get away with waking me at this hour."

"I'm sorry," Peter said.

"Don't be." Tony patted Dum-E's side. "Not unless you're skipping class to talk to me."

"My next one's at eleven."

"Then you're fine," Tony said.

**

Peter came to visit for a few days over winter break. Tony forbade Avengers business besides looking over Peter's suit on the first day there. It was Peter's first time in California.

Tony accompanied him to the beach, up in the mountains, and to see the redwoods. He showed Peter around the California Avengers compound and Tony's new house and even took him out to where Tony's old house used to be when Peter expressed an interest. Tony hadn't been back there in years.

"Have you ever considered rebuilding?" Peter asked.

"I'd rather look forward," Tony said.

"Then why haven't you sold it?"

Tony looked out over the water, standing on an uneven bit of stone that used to be the entranceway. "Because I've never been able to resist looking back."

Peter threaded his fingers through Tony's and quietly kept him company.

**

It was a thing. It was definitely a thing.

**

Peter showed up for a couple weeks during the summer, too. He didn't spend the whole time following Tony around. He spent time with Shuri in the lab when he wasn't working on something with Tony. He took part in some training exercises with Scott and Hope and Wanda. He convinced Rhodey they should practice Peter swinging from the War Machine armor while they were midair. When Riri showed up, they got some real aerial acrobatic shenanigans going. Tony maybe joined in.

In the evenings, though, Peter was all Tony's, showing up in Tony's workshop or on his doorstep, wherever Tony was, and asking, all easy hope and painful sincerity, "Do you want to get dinner together?"

The answer was yes. The answer was always yes.

**

"Do you think he'll move here when he graduates?" Wanda asked contemplatively when Peter was on a plane home.

"Nah." Tony ran a finger over the rim of his smoothie glass. "Kid's a New Yorker through and through."

"Hm." Wanda turned her thoughtful gaze on Tony. "And what about you? Do you ever think of going back?"

"All the time," Tony said. He took a sip. "Doesn't mean it's going to happen."

**

Time passed.

Tony reran the figures, then made some adjustments.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd come out here to die. Others, he was pretty sure he was going to be just fine. 

For once, optimism won: when he gave himself his next injection, Rhodey didn't have to find him passed out on a lab floor this time.

**

Most of the way into Tony's third year on the West Coast Avengers, Steve called an all hands meeting. Tony and the rest video conferenced it. Steve's face was unusually solemn over the holo. Bruce was pacing, filled with a restless energy. Sam was some mix of pleased and furious.

"You'll want to sit for this," Steve said.

Tony sat. 

Wanda leaned forward. "What is it?"

"It's Nat," Steve said. "Or—not Nat, but—"

"She had a daughter," Sam said.

"That's not possible," Tony said. He'd read the files on the Red Room.

"It's not," Bruce agreed. "But someone did clone her."

"Which makes her Nat's _daughter_," Sam said.

"Where is she?" Thor asked.

"That's what we need to talk about," Steve said.

**

Tony had planned to stay in California unless otherwise necessary (or Peter asked). A clone of Natasha currently in hostile hands made it very necessary.

**

Subject 12-B was what her file called her. Tony thought no name or one taken from someone else was better than that. He wasn't going to call her Natasha, though, not unless it was a name she chose for herself. He hadn't really considered the topic of what to call her until it was a little too late, face to face with a girl with Natasha's face, same eyes gone wide, same nose scrunched up, same lips twisted with displeasure. The only difference was she looked to be maybe fourteen years old.

Tony had put himself on this side of the building for the search for a reason, and that reason was that he wasn't ready for this. Actual events didn't care. Natasha's daughter had taken the opportunity of the combined might of two teams of Avengers plus Thor and friends attacking the building to escape from her confinement in the labs and somehow ended up right where Tony had been rounding up stray bad guys. Tony had caught her attempting to jimmy open a window.

"We're three floors up. There's an easier way out of here than risking a broken neck." Tony jerked an armor-covered thumb over his shoulder. "Seriously, there's a set of stairs right over there."

The girl was wearing what looked like a patient gown. She had a messenger bag with her, but otherwise was empty-handed. She put her fists up. It was kind of cute, in a kitten prepared to attack sort of way. Of course, this particular kitten was going to grow up to be a tiger.

"Whoa, there, I'm a friend." Tony raised his own hands, palms facing away at an angle, because facing forward was a threat. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm with the people storming this place. We're here to rescue you, believe it or not."

"I want to believe you," the girl said. Her mouth softened. The lines of her face smoothed out. She looked like she was going to relent, like she was teetering on the brink of trusting he was there to help. It was entirely possible she recognized him as Iron Man. She hadn't been kept entirely sheltered according to the training program that had come with her file. She had gotten all the education of the average high school graduate along with a generous helping of spycraft and assassination 101.

"What can I do to convince you?" Tony asked.

"Let me see your face," the girl said.

Like a sucker, Tony dialed back the helmet. The girl's fist was a blur toward the side of his neck. Tony thought, _Definitely Nat's daughter,_ as she stabbed him with some kind of injector she must have palmed from the bag. They got in a bit of a scuffle. Tony didn't want to hurt her, but he was getting kind of dizzy, sweat prickling on the back of his neck. He got an arm around her torso. She tried to kidney punch him and split open her knuckles on the hard plating of the suit.

"Who are you working for?" the girl asked, her face blank now. She'd stopped struggling, but Tony didn't trust it.

"Kind of self-employed these days," Tony said, mouth moving without his permission. "What did you give me?"

"I'm asking the questions. What do you want with me?"

"To save you," Tony said.

That was a hint of bewilderment. This girl, no matter how she took after her genetic forebearer, wasn't Natasha. "Why?"

"Because you're not Nat, but she would have loved you." Tony had no control over what he was saying. It was disturbing. "We want the chance to do it for her."

"Who's 'we'?" the girl asked.

"The Avengers," Tony said, giving himself over to it. The truth was probably helping him here. He let her go. At least she was listening. "We're superheroes. We were the closest thing she had to a family."

"And who's Natasha?" the girl pressed. "What is she to me?"

"She was the best of us. She died to save the universe. They made you from her," Tony said, because those were the basic facts of it. Then, because that wasn't the full story, "She would have been your mother."

The girl took a step back, then another.

"Please don't run," Tony begged. "Come home with us. You don't have to be an Avenger. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Let us take care of you. Hell, you don't have to live with any of us. I will buy you an apartment, give you the means to do whatever you want." It was the truth. It was all the truth. This was a wound Tony had never healed, all of his losses always bleeding. "Just let me make sure you're safe."

"You want to cage me," the girl said. "To spy on me with your machines."

"I want to keep you under observation of a friendly AI, sure," Tony agreed, because he couldn't keep that from her, "the same way I want to keep everyone I care about where I can see them, safe and sound. I'm a paranoid mess when it comes to my loved ones. No one actually lets me do that. The closest anyone comes these days is Peter, and Karen doesn't report to me anymore."

"Where's the rest of your group?" the girl asked.

"Honestly?" Everything Tony said right now was honest. "Comms chatter indicates they've got us surrounded and are about to come in through the door and windows."

Then they were coming in, and keeping the girl occupied wasn't his job anymore. Tony found a wall to slump against. Truth serum sucked, and for some reason Extremis wasn't fighting it, was treating it like a recreational drug Tony had taken for kicks, taking advantage of the same loophole he'd left for caffeine and alcohol.

After a little bit, they got the girl squared away, though she wasn't exactly trying that hard to get away. When she was done putting up a show fight, Tony got back up and wandered over. Steve—who might be an old man now, but no one had been able to convince him to stay home—was talking to the girl in a low, earnest voice, his face all sincerity. He put his hand on her shoulder. Yeah, even odds she was going to move in with him and walk all over him. At least she wasn't Tony's problem anymore.

Speaking of Tony's problems—

"Hey, Orphan Black. What's the over-under for this stuff wearing off?" Tony asked.

The girl shrugged. "Sometimes it lasts for minutes. Sometimes it lasts for hours."

"What stuff?" Steve asked.

"Short Stuff gave me a shot of truth serum," Tony said. Yep, still not his choice to actually say the words aloud.

"How did that happen?" Sam asked.

"I'm a sucker," Tony said. Damn it.

The girl made a familiar expression that on Nat had meant: _That's a fair assessment_. Tony felt warm and nostalgic despite how horrible he felt.

"How do you feel?" Steve asked.

"Tremendously happy and like I'm going to be sick," Tony said promptly. "I'm going to be useless for clean-up."

"Did you say you got hit by truth serum?" Scott asked with entirely too much good cheer in his voice. "So will you finally admit you know my name?"

"Of course I know your name," Tony said, undoing years of hard work getting under Scott's skin. "Your pained expression when I get it wrong is one of the perks of working with the West Coast Avengers instead of going home."

"Tell me how you really feel," Scott said, which started a whole game of it.

Everyone thought it was hilarious as they designated part of the team to stay with Tony and make sure he didn't have a negative reaction besides the dizziness, cold sweats, nausea, and generally feeling like he was terribly ill. If Tony were feeling better and not in danger of spilling any or all of his deepest secrets, maybe he'd think it was funny, too. After a few minutes of answering Scott's questions, they were down to Tony, Steve, Scott, Hope, Peter, Wanda, Clint, and Thor, as well as the girl who was the whole reason they were there.

"So you admit it's America's ass," Scott said.

"Enough," Hope said, clapping a hand on his shoulder and pushing, leading him away.

"It's Steve's ass, and yes, it's very nice. I was clear on that before." At least they'd stuck to the safe stuff so far, the stuff Tony would freely admit to. "I'm half convinced the reason Steve passed the shield to Sam was because that was a prerequisite."

Steve shook his head, but he was smiling. "I'm going to tell Sam you said that."

"I stand by my assessment," Tony said. _Ass_essment. He spared a moment to be grateful that he wasn't spilling every stray thought. He could almost see the humor in it after several minutes of Scott crowing over how he'd known all along that Tony really liked them all. It couldn't last.

"Do me next," Peter said.

"Mr. Parker, I would love to do you," Tony said, at which point, for him, it went from nearly funny to a horror story. 

Peter went bright red, but for most of the rest of them, it was still funny. They smiled or laughed like oh, of course you would say that, Tony. But the thing was, _he couldn't lie_. He'd already known that. He'd honestly planned to take some of what he'd said about Scott to the grave. The guy hadn't needed the ego boost. But it was readily apparent that this was no longer the sort of awkward Tony would be able to brazen his way through and laugh off later. This was the sort of awkward that might just kill him.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need to let F.R.I.D.A.Y. do the rest of the wellness check. The rest of you can do your observing from outside the armor," Tony said as he signaled Bleeding Edge to suit back up. He wasn't overreacting. This was exactly the right amount of reaction. It was, in fact, a too little, too late reaction. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., mute me."

Maybe it was revealing that this was the point where Tony cut himself off, but it was much less so than it could have been. Not-Nat's amusement faded, her expression going sharp, almost sympathetic, but nearly everyone else seemed to think that Tony had decided he was done playing. Steve still had an expression of bright amusement, not bothering to hide his smile. Thor shook his head, but he was grinning. What did it say about Tony's life that the teenagers (or those who were so recently twenty as to be close enough) saw him most clearly?

"Don't sulk," Thor said, wrapping an arm Tony couldn't feel around his shoulders. "We promise to keep your secrets."

"Doesn't help when the one person you don't want to hear them is right there," Tony said, so, so grateful for the mute.

"We won't ask you anything more," Wanda tried to reassure him.

"I don't know, it was kind of nice hearing how much Tony loves us," Clint said. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Steve said.

"There's everything to be ashamed of," Tony said in a burst of emotion. "I moved coasts to keep it from ever being anything more, and I went and fell in love with the kid anyway. I knew better, and I still let it happen."

"Tony," Peter said, a stricken expression on his face, and great, this, this right here, this absolute, unmitigated disaster, was what got Peter to finally call Tony by his first name again? "I can still hear you."

Oh.

Shit.

Tony didn't care what he'd promised when he thought he knew the worst of it. He'd been telling the truth at the time when he said he'd let everyone keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't have any adverse reactions. Now?

Tony hit the repulsors and went right out the window.

**

Tony couldn't run from his problems forever, but he could at least wait them out until the truth serum wore off.

Peter was calling. Tony ignored it.

**

Eventually, his problems caught up to him anyway. Not that the labs at the New York Avengers Compound were that great a hiding spot. If Tony had really wanted to avoid Peter, he'd have gone back to California.

"So just to make sure I have this right, I'm the kid you were talking about, right?" Peter asked, going straight for the throat instead of any actual lead up. No "Hi, Tony." No "How are you feeling?" No "Do you mind if I ask about the thing you've been avoiding addressing so hard you fled to the opposite coast?"

The truth serum had worn off, but Tony answered, "Yeah, kid. I was talking about you."

"I'm not a kid anymore." Peter came to stand next to Tony. "But then, you already knew that." He leaned past Tony to pick up the webshooter Tony hadn't been able to resist fiddling with. If he hadn't wanted Tony to play with it, he shouldn't have left it out in a lab Tony hadn't seen the inside of in three years. "Is it really that terrible to love me?"

"That part's easy," Tony said and he didn't even have the excuse of the serum to hide behind. "That's kind of the problem."

"Explain it to me," Peter said.

"When we met, you were a kid with hero worship, and I was an adult whose expectations were, frankly, unreasonable. I put too much on you, expected too much of you." The expression on Peter's face was that of someone remembering that time Tony took the suit away and every other time Tony had ever been unhappy with or disappointed in him. But that wasn't Tony's point. "And somehow, you met them. You kept meeting them. Almost without exception, you exceeded them. I wanted you to be better," and yeah, okay, now Tony was invoking Peter's biggest failure on Tony's watch and their argument thereafter, "and you were. You are."

"Somehow, that doesn't sound like the compliment I thought it would be," Peter said.

"It's a compliment," Tony said flatly. "And it's also—look, I got that Pepper was too good for me, and I went for it anyway, and it was a mistake. We were a mistake. I am always, always a mistake—a fun mistake, but a mistake—and that's without the additional baggage of an age gap and the whole mentor-mentee thing."

"Shouldn't that be my decision, too?" Peter asked.

"If it were on the table? Yes." Tony shook his head. "But it takes two to tango, and I'm opting out."

"I think you're afraid," Peter said quietly.

Tony laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Bravo. Nail on the head. Yes, I am afraid. Well done. I am well aware of my own cowardice, but thanks for playing."

"And I think," Peter continued like Tony hadn't spoken, "that I could make you happy."

"You could until the inevitable fiery disaster," Tony agreed.

"And I think that maybe, someday, I might find someone who understands me as well as you do, or who likes me as much as you do, or who is willing to put up with the weirdness of my life, even if they don't embrace it and live it the way you do." Peter put the webshooter back on the workbench. "I think maybe, someday, I could meet someone who makes me as happy as you do, or close enough that there's no difference. I think it's possible I could love someone as much as I love you." Peter's gaze burned when it met Tony's. "But I don't think there's anyone who could be all of those things and I don't want to wait or to settle when you already exist and you already love me back."

"Peter—" Tony didn't have the words. Nothing except a "no" he didn't want to give. Then again, Peter didn't look like he was expecting a "yes."

"But this isn't about what I want, is it?"

"I'm sorry," Tony said.

"I'm not."

And that was really the crux of it, wasn't it?

**

After that excruciating conversation, Tony got to meet up with the rest of the team and debrief. Following that, he went back to California. He didn't leave with his dignity intact, but he did leave.

**

(Tony was really starting to hate California.)

**

Tony got back into the groove of things. He did work for S.I. He dispensed the occasional bit of advice to Riri when she flew in or video called him. He showed up when Wanda called him in. He worked on equipment where he was needed, though Hope and Scott had everything handled for their own stuff, Shuri had told Tony several times already to look, not touch, and there just wasn't much for Tony to do. He felt superfluous. He was superfluous.

"Is this how other people feel?" Tony wondered as Shuri slapped his hands away from the kitten mittens. "Observation only, general uselessness? How do they stand it?"

"You don't even let other people observe," Hope said. Like she could talk. She and Scott only did emergency maintenance in the Avengers labs these days, never mind that Tony had gotten his fingers all over Scott's last suit during that whole time heist thing.

"I've let plenty of people observe my work on the Iron Man suits," Tony said. Pepper, Peter, Riri, Happy. Rhodey had gotten to see a fair amount, too. Tony would have to start counting on a new hand soon. Actually, bring in Dum-E, U, J.A.R.V.I.S., and F.R.I.D.A.Y., and Tony had a whole crowd, even if some of them were gone now.

"You do everything at home," Shuri said.

"It's not home," Tony said.

"It's been three years," Hope said. "How is it not home yet?"

Tony's current digs? It was just a place. Home was about people. Tony liked the people around him, but that didn't make it a home. Rhodey was busy all the time. Happy split his time between California and New York. Pepper came to visit, but it was just visiting. Tony had Dum-E and F.R.I.D.A.Y., but that wasn't enough. That was one of Tony's problems. Nothing was ever enough. He couldn't be satisfied. The West Coast Avengers were great. California was great. Everything was more than he could reasonably ask for.

Tony had been called a lot of things over the years. Reasonable wasn't one of them.

**

One of the best parts of any day was when Peter called. Sometimes he wanted to talk out a science or engineering problem. Sometimes he just wanted to talk. Except Peter wasn't calling anymore.

That was fair. He probably needed space. It wasn't like they'd left things in a good place the last time they'd spoken. Tony had opted out of a romantic relationship. It was only right that Peter could opt out of anything else, too.

Tony hated it. Tony hated a lot of things. That was life now. Once again, as ever and always, he sucked it up. He picked up the decanter from the wet bar and poured himself another glass. He went down to his personal workshop. He should be trying to get some distance, too. Tony downed his glass, the burn of the alcohol soothing, and opened a file for another Spider-Man suit he wouldn't be sending Peter.

**

"Video call from New York," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

"Full screen it," Tony said. He swiped a set of plans away for a new satellite design. To his surprise, instead of one of the New York Avengers, it was Natasha's little mini me. She was going by Natalya now. Her hair was a bright purple. "Okay, I'll admit, I wasn't expecting to hear from you again after you had Steve send back the stuff I sent you."

"That phone was a listening device," Natalya said.

"Every phone is a listening device where I'm concerned," Tony said with probably too much honesty. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't have a top of the line one of a kind cell phone personally developed by a tech genius. Really, any other kid would've killed to have one. Think of all the street cred you burned when you sent it back in pieces."

"I told you I didn't want you to monitor me."

Tony spread his hands. "And look at me. Not monitoring you. Respecting your boundaries. Honestly, you should be flattered. You have no idea what a big step this is for me."

"Exactly." Natalya pursed her lips. "I want to move in with you."

"That's a big ask in any relationship," Tony said blithely, "much less one where we've exchanged a handful of words, most of them me spilling my guts after you drugged me. What's wrong with Steve? I thought you liked Steve."

"He looks at me and is disappointed I'm not someone else." Natalya pulled no punches. "You know what that's like."

"Who says I won't have the same problem?" Tony said.

Natalya's expression was blank. "Under truth serum, you called me her daughter. You said you wanted to take care of me."

_We_ was the operative word Tony had used. Tony was only supposed to be one part of a group who'd realistically carry most of the weight, because he was not the reasonable choice for figuring out how to take care of a teenager. He'd also said he was willing to give her an apartment, no adult supervision necessary. She'd probably be fine. Tony had gone to M.I.T. at thirteen. That was plenty old enough to figure out how to live on your own.

Then again, Rhodey had kind of swooped in to make sure he didn't starve to death or turn into a feral lab child, and pretty much every Avenger but Peter himself had gone out of their way to tell Tony that fourteen was too young to be given a super suit and set loose on the city. The same principle probably applied to an apartment and an expense account.

"Fine," Tony said. "I make a terrible roommate, but if you can convince Steve, I'll make sure you have a roof over your head and an adult—not a responsible adult, but an adult—who comes attached to the building."

"Good." Natalya's smile was small, but satisfied. "You still have a penthouse. I'll expect you in New York by the end of the week."

"Wait just a minute," Tony said, because he'd never agreed to move back to New York City. "What's wrong with California?" 

"You wouldn't want to separate me from my new family, would you?" Natalya asked with wide eyes and an innocent expression.

Tony knew she was playing him. He could tell that she knew that he knew. It wasn't like she was trying that hard. Damn it. 

"Why do you really want me back in New York?" Tony asked.

"I'm just a sad orphan looking for another father figure," Natalya said.

"Never call me a father figure again," Tony said with resignation, "and fine. I'll move back."

**

"You're sure you'll be fine without me?" Tony asked.

"Nothing's stopping you from coming back whenever you're needed," Hope said. "It's not like most of us don't commute anyway."

"You're not that indispensable," Wanda said, but there was an almost fond note to her voice.

"I look forward to a quieter lab," Shuri said with a mischievous smile.

"Let me know if you need any tips for parenting a teenager," Scott said.

Rhodey wasn't there for the sending off. He had other work, and as he'd told Tony, it wasn't like changing Tony's location was going to change the fact that Rhodey was still going to be around to call and visit. 

("Though you could visit _me_ more often," Rhodey had said. "Just saying. My apartment may not be oceanfront property or a sprawling penthouse, but I have beer, a comfortable couch, and ESPN. Maybe I'd like to be the one who gets to stay at home for once.")

Tony went back to the house one last time to pack the last of the belongings he actually cared about. Dum-E had already been sent ahead, but there were a few pictures (his mom, his dad, Pepper and Rhodey, a young Peter holding a certificate upside down) and other things he'd held onto. The last time he'd moved, he'd brought a lot of baggage with him and the hope that he could just this once resist looking back. The time before, he'd had almost nothing, so much of his world burned down around him, but a few important things had survived. He'd pulled close Dum-E and J.A.R.V.I.S. and gotten the arc reactor pulled out. He'd thrown it in the ocean and looked forward to the future. Now? Tony wasn't sure.

He knew only this: he wanted to look forward, but the past was always there, begging him to look back.

**

The worst part about returning to New York was that no one had warned Peter. When he saw Tony in the compound lobby, he had a look of such raw hope that it was like a punch to the chest, all the air rushing out of Tony in one sudden and unexpected breath.

"It's about time," Natalya said from behind Peter. She was also at the compound, because apparently Steve had no concept of what was appropriate for take your daughter to work day. That, or he'd been living there. Either way, Tony had finally gotten everything together to pick her up.

"No one said you couldn't move into the penthouse without me," Tony said, mouth moving on automatic. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Peter, whose look of hope transformed into disappointment and heartbreak.

"Steve said I couldn't," Natalya said.

"Good thing you don't have to listen to him anymore, huh?" 

As Tony watched, Peter's face closed off. He hid everything behind a polite, brittle smile. Tony gave an awkward little wave. Peter nodded back. He sidled around Tony, no words of greeting, no nothing. Tony stared after him as he walked further into the building, turned a corner, and left.

"Anything else to pick up, or is that backpack all your worldly possessions?" Tony asked, finally making himself meet Natalya's unnervingly piercing gaze. "Because really, if so, that's sad. I have all this money I've offered to throw at the costs of your upbringing. You can afford a full wardrobe and a game system or whatever it is that teenagers these days like. Did you want a stuffed animal collection? We can get you a stuffed animal collection."

"My stuff's already moved in," Natalya said. "This just has my clothes from last night."

"Good." Tony turned for the doors. "You don't have a creepy doll collection, do you? Because I'm prepared to deal with the dead-eyed stares of a hundred soulless teddy bears, but I'd rather not reenact a Jonathan Coulton song if I don't have to."

"I'm not a child," Natalya said.

"Of course not. Do you think Steve would trust me with a child?"

"Yes." Natalya took him too seriously. She'd learn better soon enough.

**

Weirdly, having a quiet, terrifying assassin child running around underfoot wasn't so bad. She kept breaking into Tony's private lab, so he keyed her in. Food appeared in the refrigerator he'd never ordered, so she was obviously taking him up on the offer to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. for whatever she wanted. There were twelve kinds of cereal in the cabinets and new fresh fruit every day.

Sometimes packages appeared only to disappear into her room unopened. That was her private space, without sensors, and Tony never stepped foot inside. Maybe Steve would have objected, but Tony shrugged and figured she'd been trained to use everything she bought or made. If it made her feel more secure to have a small armory and body armor instead of a collection of teddy bears and whatever passed for teen fashion these days, he wouldn't begrudge her the metaphorical safety blanket.

Over breakfast one morning, Tony passed over a miniaturized taser set that doubled as a minor fashion statement.

Natalya looked down at the present with an expression he couldn't parse. "I'm not her."

"You're not," Tony agreed. "Those aren't Widow Bites. They're intended for self-defense only. If anyone comes for you, you can zap them and run like hell."

Natalya pocketed the bracelets. She ate the rest of her cereal and melon cubes. She disappeared into her room. When she came out dressed for the day, she was wearing the bracelets on both wrists.

"Did you need a ride to class?" Tony asked. Someone had enrolled her in one of the local schools. She seemed to like it, or at least view it as an interesting exercise in going undercover, so he hadn't offered to switch her to online classes or university more than the once. He had faith she'd let him know if she changed her mind.

"I like the train," Natalya said.

Tony took this shared preference like the gift it was and held it close. "It's an open offer, but you never have to take me up on it."

"I know." Natalya stared at him like his own personal creepy doll for a moment, face blank, eyes watching, then turned and grabbed her backpack, a bright orange like that of a poisonous frog. Most of her favorite colors seemed to be either outside of nature or a natural warning to predators. It was oddly endearing. "You can pick me up after school."

"Oh, well, if I have permission," Tony said, smiling. 

"I want to go to the Avengers Compound."

"Okay." Like always, Tony sucked it up. "I'll drive you."

"You don't have to." Natalya adjusted her backpack straps. "But they'd be happy to see you."

That was kind of the problem.

**

This time, Tony texted ahead. Steve sent back an acknowledgment and the promise to be there. Peter didn't respond, but it wasn't like Tony had been expecting to hear from him. When they got there, Sam, Steve, and Bucky were waiting in the lobby. Natalya was off like a shot, a glimpse of the child she'd never gotten to be, and skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Talya!" Sam greeted her with a grin and a fist bump. "I like the braid."

"Nat," Steve said with a quiet smile. He patted her on the head and somehow came away with his arm still attached.

Natalya turned around and told Tony, "Stop lurking. It's creepy. Go do lab stuff."

Tony had the brief and horrifying thought she was trying to play matchmaker, but when he got to the lab, the only person there was Bruce.

"Tony." Bruce nodded at him, but didn't pause in fiddling with some equipment.

"What are you doing down here?" Tony wondered. "You did get my text, didn't you?"

"Yes. I got the group text. Hence my being down here."

"Are you hiding?" Tony asked suspiciously. "From a twelve year old girl?"

"She's a fourteen year old trained as an assassin, but no. I promised I'd show her some fun science experiments the next time she was around, and I'd thought I'd have more than a twenty minute head start on setting up something age appropriate."

Right. Bruce was a responsible adult. Tony wasn't sure why she hadn't moved in with him.

"Speaking of hiding, though, Peter's probably on the roof."

If Tony had really wanted to know that, he could've asked the building A.I.

"You can't avoid each other forever." Bruce pulled out a couple beakers and added them to the bench.

"Who says I'm avoiding him?" Tony asked.

"Well, I wouldn't have before, but the whole confession under truth serum thing kind of gave the game away."

Tony went stiff, a dead giveaway, but apparently he'd had no chance of hiding this anyway. "Who else knows?"

Bruce looked pitying. "Just you, me, Steve, Nat, and, of course, Peter."

"And who told you?" Tony asked accusingly.

"Nat. She thought you wouldn't come back because of it and was looking for someone who wasn't Sam or Steve to take her." Bruce went for one of the cabinets and pulled out some chemicals, but nothing all that interesting. "I'm the one who told her to ask you anyway."

"Why didn't you take her?" Tony wondered. There were so many other options, all better than Tony. It was weird that he was the one who ended up looking after a fourteen year old when everyone knew he'd once given a child a flash bang grenade to take to school. In Tony's defense, if he'd known that story was going to horrify everyone around him, he wouldn't have told it unless he was much more drunk. And hey, giving Harley that little bullying deterrent had saved Tony's life. All the same: Tony was not high on anyone's list to trust with a child, not even (perhaps especially not) one as determinedly self-sufficient as Natalya.

"Because she doesn't trust any of the rest of us to see her as a person instead of a clone or a lab experiment." Bruce smiled ruefully as he mixed a few things together. "And most of us weren't willing to take truth serum to assure her of the purity of our intentions. Even if I'd been willing to, it wouldn't work on me. Same with Steve."

"Huh." That hadn't been what Tony had expected.

"Why did you think she wanted you to come back?" Bruce asked.

"I was banking on either her knowing something I didn't about needing more hands on deck over here," Tony said with a shrug, "or she had a crush on Riri and figured I'd make for a convenient way to meet her."

"You thought it could be a crush and you moved back to New York?" Bruce sounded far too disbelieving. Obviously Tony had been away for too long. Bruce had forgotten what he was like.

"I could always move back to Cali if I wasn't actually needed here," Tony said.

"No." Bruce looked thoughtful. "I don't think you could."

**

Tony wanted to stick around to see what Bruce thought would be age appropriate. It would be a learning experience. On the other hand, it sounded like a real snooze fest, and he could use some fresh air.

The roof was a great place to get it.

Tony had done too much of his own running away. And the truth of the matter was, he missed Peter. Not like an extra limb, not like a part of himself, but like the sun. Something he could live without, but which he was happier and healthier to have in his life. Tony missed Peter like warmth and a fresh breeze and bright light soaking into his skin. 

The whole reason he'd left was to preserve what they had, but he saw now there was never any chance of preserving it. It was always going to change, because that was how life went. People changed. Relationships changed. The memory of Peter as the kid who'd looked up to Tony, who'd held too much faith in him, was always going to be there. But Peter was always going to grow up and see Tony a little more clearly, was going to grow past needing Tony as a mentor. Maybe Tony had hoped they could be friends and friendly colleagues standing on equal footing, still important in each other's lives—but there was no telling for sure they'd have managed that, either. 

Tony had once offered Bruce a room, any room, anywhere he lived—had offered him a whole floor in the tower he'd built and decided on a whim to try to turn into a home—and now he was someone Tony had seen a handful of times in the last few years. A break glass in case of emergency type of friendship. He'd thought his last break-up with Pepper would mean an end to everything they had, but she remained in his life, determined to be his friend despite all the awful shit he'd put her through. She was too busy to be available every day, but even on opposite coasts they talked several times a month outside of S.I. business.

Tony was a futurist, but he couldn't see the future. At some point, he'd embraced pessimism and told himself it was realism, but lately—Tony wanted to try hope. He could use a little more sunshine in his life.

What was the worst that could happen? Peter never talked to him again? Tony moved to the other side of the country and tried not to drink himself to death? Peter found out that Tony needed him far more than Peter ever would need him? Tony broke the kid's heart?

He had. The world continued turning.

When Tony opened the roof access door, Peter was right there, waiting. He wasn't in his costume, just jeans and a hoodie. Tony could see Peter's face as he said, "Hey, kid. I want to talk."

"So talk," Peter said quietly. He turned around, facing toward the edge of the building. He looked out over the grounds, which had slowly begun to recover from that final battle. They'd brought in trees. There was something resembling a lawn again. Off in the distance, there was a new lake where the old compound had stood.

Tony walked up next to Peter. He shoved his hands in his pockets, because otherwise he was going to do something stupid like put them on Peter. Maybe that would be an option later, but right now, Peter's body language was closed off, unwelcoming. His shoulders were curled in. He was like a hedgehog putting the defenses up. It made sense that Peter thought he needed to protect himself here.

"Twelve percent," Tony said to start. "Those were my original odds for making it past a year if I needed a full Extremis activation."

That startled Peter into opening up a little, turning toward Tony. He looked Tony up and down as though reassuring himself that yes, Tony was still here.

"I'd put myself closer to seventy now for making it through the rest of the decade. After that, they only improve." Tony pulled his hands out of his pockets and looked down at them, smoother than they used to be. "But truthfully, I have no guarantees here. I could live forever or I could fall apart any minute. My cellular structure is seriously fucked up in a way that can't be tested with anything else, because the only other living person who's used the Infinity Gauntlet is Bruce, and he had his own weird thing going when he snapped his fingers and made a wish."

"You never said anything." Peter looked more horrified, not less.

"Yeah, because I was going to tell a teenager that Extremis was only meant to be a stopgap, a chance to finish out whatever I had to do." Tony sighed. He rubbed at his face. "Look, that's something you should be aware of. It wasn't just that you were a teenager I'd just helped bring back to life and wanted to protect. If F.R.I.D.A.Y. hadn't called in Rhodey and the rest of them, I would have been the only one who knew what was going on with me, because I'm bad at sharing. When I was dying of palladium poisoning, the only people who knew were S.H.I.E.L.D., and that's because they were spying on me."

"But you're going to be okay?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Tony said, because it couldn't be emphasized enough. "I'm working on it, but just because it's under control now doesn't mean that something doesn't happen tomorrow that puts me back at square one of potentially coming apart at the seams."

"So why tell me now?" Peter was fully facing Tony now, drawn completely in, and this, right here, was why Tony had thought he needed to leave. 

It was also why Tony had never been able to resist coming back.

"After Thanos 2.0, when I looked into the future, I was sure of two things." Tony held up two fingers, pulling each down as he spoke. "I was going to fall in love with you given the opportunity and I was going to die." Tony smiled at Peter and brought his hand back down. "I was only right about one of them. I'm willing to admit I could be wrong about other things, too."

"You're seriously going to tell me you were dying—are maybe still dying—and turn around and say, what, that you're open to the possibility of a relationship now?" 

"Yeah, pretty much," Tony said probably far too glibly.

Tony couldn't quite read that expression on Peter's face. He was upset, yeah, but the whole "I was dying" thing was going over as well with him as the palladium thing had gone over with everyone else. At least Peter was going to know from the start what he was getting into—if he wanted to get into anything at all. It had been weeks. He could have found someone new. He could be single, but have changed his mind. Tony wouldn't blame him.

"You seriously—" Peter made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I thought, maybe, I could try to get over you, and then you waltz back in and give me hope, but then—" Peter raised his voice. "—_then_—you aren't even there for me! You came back for someone else! And now, I don't even know what's changed, because if you were dying this whole time, it's not like it's suddenly new information that's caused you to change your mind and give this, give me, a chance, because you knew at a year, before we'd ever talked about it, that you'd beaten the odds." Peter was quieter when he said, "How am I supposed to believe you won't change your mind again?"

"I had to go to California to try to get some distance, and it still wasn't enough. What makes you think I could stay away now that we're in the same city?" Tony put a hand to Peter's cheek, and no matter how upset Peter was, he leaned into it easily, automatically, like he never considered pulling away. "You can say no. If you want space, I'll respect that." Tony's throat gave a tiny click as he swallowed. "But if you want to try, I promise I'll do everything in my power to make it work, to make it worth it."

"What about it being an 'inevitable, fiery disaster'?" Peter asked in a way that made it clear he'd replayed their last conversation over and over again in his head after it was done. Tony could relate. He'd done it, too.

"It's me," Tony said, stroking Peter's cheek, "so yeah, that's going to happen at least once, probably more, but that doesn't mean it has to end." Tony looked out at the grounds this time, just a moment, then back into Peter's eyes. He could see the flecks in the irises, tiny little imperfections to be treasured. "I think we could do pretty well rebuilding if you're willing to work with me on it."

"I'm willing," Peter said. 

Before Tony could say anything more, Peter was pushing his hand away to lean in all the way, lips brushing Tony's softly, hesitantly at first, like he wasn't sure of his welcome, then more confidently when Tony immediately responded by throwing his arms around Peter and pulling them bodily together. Peter buried his hands in Tony's hair, holding him in place as Peter dropped kiss after kiss against his mouth. He was trembling slightly in Tony's arms. Tony felt a pang of guilt at how much Peter wanted this, at having denied Peter the chance to have this for even a moment.

Then Peter brought his hands down to Tony's shoulders as he said, voice wobbling, "You were _dying_," and oh, shit, yeah, Tony had not heard the last of that.

"To be fair, it's kind of my thing. I think I'm contractually obligated to do it at least twice a decade." Nope, Peter didn't appreciate that, either, actually glaring at Tony now, which, wow, that was very hot up close.

"If we're doing this, you have to talk to me," Peter said firmly.

"Okay. I'll do my best," Tony said, not quite a full promise, because it was going to be an adjustment.

"And I want to see the data for myself on Extremis and what you've done with it," Peter continued. "Plus your full medical work-up."

"Done." Tony would promise a lot more to get Peter to stop looking like that. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. Maybe Tony should have parceled out the revelations, started with a date before pulling out the nearly died, business as usual card.

"I'm going to show it to Bruce, too." When did Bruce stop being Dr. Banner to Peter, Tony wondered. "And Dr. Strange."

It made something in Tony squirm to give out all that information to people who weren't Peter, but he'd said he'd work on this, and he meant it. In a way, this was their first time rebuilding. Tony wanted to set a good precedent. "Whatever you need."

"This isn't about me," Peter said.

"That's where you're wrong." Tony stole another kiss. "This is entirely about you."

"Agree to disagree," Peter said, and then they were kissing again.

**

"This is certainly interesting," Bruce said in a mild way as he looked over the data that nevertheless communicated the deep depths to which Bruce was judging him. "Do you have notes from Shuri in here? I'm curious to see what she had to say."

"What? No." Tony poked at the display Peter had open, leaning shamelessly over Peter's shoulder. "The only people who've seen that are you, Peter, and Sparkle Motion if he's opened the e-mail Peter had me send him."

"You had one of the greatest minds in the world at your disposal and you completely ignored that resource?" Bruce asked. 

"Of course he did," Peter said. His hand came up to steady Tony as he leaned in a little further, half draped over Peter.

"You're supposed to be on my side," Tony complained.

"I'm on the side of keeping you alive." Peter was intent on his own copy of the data. "If you had any sense, that would be your side."

Tony sighed. "You can send it to her, too."

**

Peter and Tony both had responsibilities and a variety of side projects. It didn't leave a lot of time left over for date nights. They made time anyway.

Natalya came back one evening from visiting Steve in Brooklyn, looked at the mostly innocent tableau in front of her—Tony and Peter sitting on the couch, Peter curled up into Tony's side as _Aliens_ played on the T.V. screen, Tony's arm wrapped around his shoulders—and said, "If you get married, I'm not calling him step-dad."

"You're not calling _me_ dad," Tony said.

"I'd make an awesome step-dad," Peter said. 

"And I'd make a terrible father," Tony said.

Natalya's eyes were narrow, but she said, "You'd do alright."

She went to her room, though Tony and Peter made it clear she was welcome to join them.

"Kind of soon to worry about that sort of thing, anyway," Tony said, running his fingers through Peter's hair, scratching his nails gently down the back of Peter's skull.

"I'm good with what we have now," Peter agreed.

**

"So the way I hear it, you have this big empty house in California all nice and unused," Riri said when she showed up for their next monthly troubleshooting session, in New York now.

"No," Tony said, because it wasn't there as a crash pad for Riri to throw parties for whatever Californian friends she'd made.

"I'm not saying I _need_ to use it," Riri said. "I'm just saying it's there, sad and lonely and longing for an occupant, and I'm graduating this year."

"You want to move to California," Tony realized.

"I'm practically a West Coast Avenger already. And it's not like you're ever moving back."

"I'll think about it," Tony said.

Riri's expression was pure satisfaction.

**

Tony's next injection for keeping Extremis stable was done in the New York Avengers Compound. Peter and Bruce were there. Shuri was on video call. Rhodey had flown in for it, too.

"It's nice to know this is happening ahead of time," Rhodey said from his spot hovering like a helicopter parent near the cot Tony was splayed out on, "instead of finding out by walking in on you passed out on your workshop floor again."

"Admit it, I keep your life interesting." Tony winced as Bruce pressed the injector into the side of his neck. Peter squeezed his hand as liquid fire ran through Tony's veins.

"Too interesting."

"I live to serve," Tony said.

"How do you feel?" Peter asked.

Like he was dying. Like this was going to work, and he was going to live. Like no matter how much it hurt, it was worth it, this moment right here, Peter's hand in his and his concern like a warm blanket wrapped around Tony's shoulders.

"Terrible," Tony answered honestly, "but happy to have you here."


End file.
